Bf A big black descended inside me. It does things there which no-one
Sees—neither do I. Not because it’s behind my back, but it is dark
There, and black. And I am certain, that deep down there it studies the
Nature and structure of my white omnipotence. First it monkeys with
Halfmouldered chests. Then I feel splinters shooting through my
Shoulders. Now it reads old forms. This is the most annoying, and with
Reason. For too many slaves I had, in the tax-deduction seasons.
It based on a poem by Dutch poet/painter Lucebert
